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It was the old Indian who set out to find what had happened among the besiegers led by Morgan. He slipped away among the rocks and brush and vanished like a phantom. He was gone an hour or more when he suddenly reappeared and beckoned to them.
“Come see,” he invited.
They knew it was safe to follow him, and they did so. Where the enemy had been ensconced they found one man, sorely wounded and in a critical condition. That was all. The others, to the last rascal of them, had vanished.
“Where have they gone, Joe?” exclaimed Frank.
“Ask him,” directed the Indian, motioning toward the wounded man. “Mebbe he tell.”
This man was questioned, and the story he told surprised and satisfied the defenders beyond measure. Disgusted over their failure to get into the valley, the ruffians had plotted among themselves. A number of them had devised a plan which to them seemed likely to be profitable. Knowing Macklyn Morgan was a very rich man, they had schemed to take him personally, carry him off, and hold him in captivity until he should pay them handsomely for his freedom. Not all the ruffians had been taken into this plot, and when the schemers started to carry Morgan off there was an outbreak and some shooting, but they got away successfully.
With Morgan and the leading spirits of the affair gone, the others quickly decided to give up the assault on the valley, and that was why they had departed in the night, leaving the wounded man behind to such mercy as Merriwell and his friends might show.
“Well, what do you think of that?” exclaimed Dick.
“Think?” said Frank, with a laugh. “Why, I think Macklyn Morgan has been caught in his own trap. Now let him get out of it!”
CHAPTER XXIII.
NEW RICHES PROMISED
When a week had passed Frank and his friends began to feel that all their troubles were over, for the time being, at least. Old Joe Crowfoot, who had been scouting in the vicinity, reported that he found no signs of probable marauders and himself settled down contentedly to smoke and loaf in the warm sunshine of the valley. With Dick and Felicia near, where he could watch them occasionally or hear their voices, the peaceful happiness of the old fellow seemed complete.
Cap’n Wiley likewise loafed to his heart’s content And if ever a person could make a whole-souled and hearty success of loafing it was the cap’n. He became so friendly with Crowfoot that old Joe even permitted him sometimes to smoke his pipe.
One beautiful morning the entire party was gathered in front of Merriwell’s cabin talking things over.
“There seems nothing now, Frank, to prevent us from securing miners and opening up this new claim,” said Hodge. “Macklyn Morgan seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth.”
“Perhaps he has learned that it is dangerous for a man like him to attempt dealing with the ruffians of this part of the country,” put in Dick. “It seems certain now that he was actually carried into captivity by the very gang he employed to seize these mines.”
“But he will get free all right,” declared Frank. “He will turn up again sometime.”
“If they don’t kill him any,” said Buckhart.
“They won’t do that,” asserted Merriwell. “They can make nothing out of him in that fashion; but they might make a good thing by forcing him to pay a large sum for his liberty.”
“Well, now that everything seems all right here, Frank,” said Dick, “I suppose Brad and I will have to light out for the East and old Fardale.”
“Waugh! That certain is right!” exclaimed the Texan. “We must be on hand, pard, when Fardale gets into gear for baseball this spring.”
“Baseball!” cried Wiley, giving a great start. “Why, that word thrills my palpitating bosom. Baseball! Why, I will be in great shape for the game this season! My arm is like iron. Never had such a fine arm on me before. Speed! Why, I will put ’um over the plate like peas! Curves! Why, my curves will paralyze ’um this year!”
“Ugh!” grunted old Joe. “Wind-in-the-head blow a heap. Him talk a lot with him jaw. Mebbe him jaw git tired sometime.”
“Look here, Joseph,” expostulated Wiley, “I don’t like sarcasm. If I didn’t love you as a brother, I might resent it.”
“Great horn spoon!” cried Buckhart, scratching vigorously. “These fleas are the biggest and worst I ever saw. You hear me murmur!”
“What, these?” squealed Wiley, in derision. “Why, these little creatures are nothing at all – nothing at all. They just tickle a fellow up a bit. Fleas! Say, mates, you should have seen the fleas I have beheld in my tempestuous career. You should have seen the fleas I met up with in the heart of darkest Africa. Those were the real thing. Don’t ’spose I ever told you about those fleas?”
And he told them a long and wonderful story about African fleas.
“Ugh!” grunted the old Indian, when Wiley had finished. “Wind-in-the-head biggest blame liar old Joe ebber see.”
Some days later, with the exception of Hodge and Crowfoot, Frank and the rest of his party arrived in Prescott. Hodge and the aged redskin were left, together with one of Pete Curry’s men, to guard the valley after a fashion. Besides going to Prescott for the purpose of seeing his brother and Buckhart off, Frank had several other objects in view. With him he brought considerable ore, taken from the quartz vein they had located in the valley, and also a small leather pouch that was nearly filled with dull yellow grains and particles washed from the placer mine. With these specimens Frank proceeded direct to an assayer, who was instructed to make an assay and give a report.
Following this, Frank set about picking up some genuine miners who knew their business and who could be relied on. It was his purpose to keep a few men at work on the claims while he completed the plans talked over by himself and Hodge and arrange for the transportation to the valley of such machinery as they needed to work the mines. As far as the placer was concerned, this was not such a difficult problem. With the quartz mine, however, it was quite a serious matter, as the valley was far from any railroad and extremely difficult of access.
Frank knew very well that it would cost a big sum of money to begin practical operations on the quartz claim, and already, for a young man of his years, he had his hands pretty full. Hodge, however, had been enthusiastic, and Merry felt that Bart would, with the greatest readiness and satisfaction, remain where he could oversee everything and carry all plans out successfully.
Merry felt that he was greatly indebted to Wiley, and he saw that the sailor had one of the best rooms in the best hotel of Prescott and was provided with every comfort the house could afford. This was not the only way in which Frank intended to reward the captain.
Wiley himself was somewhat “sore” because he had declined to accompany Frank and Bart at the time they had returned to the valley and successfully located Benson Clark’s lost mines.
“’Tis ever thus,” he sighed wearily, when the matter was spoken of. “I will bet eleventeen thousand dollars that I have lost more than a barrel of good opportunities to become rotten with wealth during my sinuous career. Not that I haven’t felt the salubrious touch of real money to an extensive extent, for sometimes I have been so loaded down with it that it rattled out of my clothes every step I took. When I sauntered carelessly along the street in days past I have shed doubloons, and picaroons, and silver shekels at every step, and I have often been followed by a tumultuous throng, who fought among themselves over the coin that rained from my radiant person. Still to-day here I am broke, busted, while the world jogs on just the same, and nobody seems to care a ripityrap. Excuse these few lamentations and wails of woe. By and by I will take a little medicine for my nerves and feel a great deal better.”
“Don’t worry over it, Wiley,” said Frank, laughing. “It will all come out in the wash. I don’t think you will die in the poorhouse.”
“Not on your tintype!” cried the sailor. “I propose to shuffle off this mortal coil in a palace.”
“Wiley,” cried Frank, “I believe you would joke in the face of old Death himself!”
“Why not? I regard life as a joke, and I don’t propose to show the white feather when my time comes. I will have no mourning at my funeral. I propose to have my funeral the gayest one on record. Everybody shall dress in their best, and the band shall play quicksteps and ragtime on the way to the silent tomb. And then I shall warn them in advance to be careful, if they want to finish the job, not to pass a baseball ground where a game is going on, for just as sure as such a thing happened I’ll kick off the lid, rise up, and prance out onto the diamond and git into the game.”
“Don’t you worry about what will become of you, cap’n,” advised Merry. “For all that you failed to stick by us in relocating those claims, I fancy we shall be able to make some provisions for you.”
“That’s charity!” shouted Wiley. “I will have none of it! I want you to understand that little Walter is well able to hustle for himself and reap his daily bread. Not even my best friend can make me a pauper by giving me alms.”
“Oh, all right, my obstinate young tar,” smiled Merry. “Have your own way. Go your own course.”
“Of course, of course,” nodded Wiley. “I always have, and I always will. Now leave me to my brooding thoughts, and I will evolve some sort of a scheme to make a few million dollars before sundown.”
Wiley’s schemes, however, did not seem to pan out, although his brain was full of them, and he had a new one every day, and sometimes a new one every hour of the day. Knowing they were soon to be separated again, Dick and Felicia spent much of their time together. It was Merriwell’s plan, of which he had spoken, to take Felicia to Denver and find her a home there where she could attend school.
The assay of the quartz Merry had brought to Prescott showed that the mine was marvelously rich. Beyond question it would prove a good thing, for all of the great expense that must be entailed in working it. On the day following the report of the assayer, Merry was writing letters in the little room of the hotel provided for such use when a man entered, approached him, and addressed him.
“Excuse me,” said this man, who was middle-aged and looked like a business man from the ground up. “I suppose you are Mr. Frank Merriwell?”
“That’s my name.”
“Well, my name is Kensington – Thomas Kensington. Perhaps you have not heard of me?”
“On the contrary, I have heard of you, Mr. Kensington. I believe you have a mine in this vicinity?”
“Yes, and another in Colorado. I hear that you have lately located a promising quartz claim. I understand that the assay indicates it is a valuable find.”
“Perhaps that’s right,” admitted Merry; “but I am at a loss just how you acquired the information.”
“My eyes and ears are open for such things. I am in Prescott to have a little assaying done myself, and I happened, by the merest chance, to hear Mr. Given, the assayist, speaking with an assistant about the result of his investigation of your specimens. You understand that it was barely a chance.”
“I presume so,” said Merry. “I don’t suppose that Given would talk of such matters publicly.”
“And he did not, sir – he did not. I assure you of that. I have also learned, Mr. Merriwell, that you have other mines?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And this new claim of yours is inconveniently located at a distance from any railway town?”
“That is correct.”
“Now, I am a man of business, Mr. Merriwell, and if you care to have me do so, I would like to investigate your property with the possibility of purchasing this new mine of yours.”
Frank was somewhat surprised.
“I am not at all certain, Mr. Kensington, that I wish to sell. Besides that, I have a partner who would have to be consulted in the matter.”
“But we might talk it over, sir – we might talk it over. Are you willing to do so?”
“I have no objections to that.”
Kensington then drew up a chair and sat down close by the desk at which Merry had been writing.
“If I were to make you an offer for your property, on being satisfied with it as something I want,” he said, “would you consider it?”
“It’s not impossible. But you must remember that my partner is to be consulted in the matter.”
“Of course, of course.”
“He might not care to sell. In that case I can do nothing.”
“You might use your influence.”
Frank shook his head.
“I wouldn’t think of that, sir. I would leave the question entirely to Hodge, and he could do as he pleased.”
“Do you fancy that there is a possibility that he might be induced to sell in case the offer seemed an advantageous one?”
“Yes, I think it possible.”
“Good!” nodded Kensington. “That being the case, we can discuss the matter further. Do you mind showing me the report of the assayer?”
“Not at all. Here it is.”
Merry took the paper from his pocket and handed it to Kensington, who glanced over the figures and statements, lifted his eyebrows slightly, puckered his lips, and whistled softly.
“Do you mean to tell me, Mr. Merriwell, that this assay was made from an average lot of quartz from your mine, or was it from specially chosen specimens?”
“Mr. Kensington, I had this assay made for myself, and not for the public. I had it made in order that I might find out just how valuable the mine is. That being the case, you can understand that I would not be foolish enough to pick what appeared to be the richest ore. On the contrary, sir, I took it as it came.”
Again Kensington whistled softly, his eyes once more surveying the figures.
“How far is this mine from the nearest railroad point?”
“Just about one hundred miles.”
“And in a difficult country as to access?”
“Decidedly so,” was Merry’s frank answer.
“It will cost a huge sum to open this mine and operate it.”
“There is no question on that point.”
“Still, this report shows it will be worth it, if the vein pans out to be one-half as promising as this assay of your specimens.”
Merry laughed.
“Mr. Kensington,” he said, “it is my belief that we have not fully uncovered the vein. It is my conviction that it will prove twice as valuable as it now seems when we get into it in earnest.”
For some moments Kensington continued to whistle softly to himself. It seemed to be a habit of his when thinking.
“Are your other mines valuable, Mr. Merriwell?”
“Yes, sir.”
“As valuable as this one?”
“I believe they are.”
“And you have them in operation?”
“I have one of them in operation.”
“That is the Queen Mystery, I believe?”
“Then you have heard of it, sir?”
“There is not much going on in mining matters in Arizona that I have not heard of. It’s my business to keep posted. You have never thought of selling the Queen Mystery?”
“Mr. Kensington, the Mystery is opened and is in operation. I have not contemplated selling it, and I do not think I shall do so. If you wish to talk of this new mine, all right. I can listen. Nothing whatever may come of it, but I see no harm in hearing whatever you have to say.”
“Now we’re getting at an understanding, Mr. Merriwell. Of course, I wouldn’t think of making you any sort of an offer for your mine unless thoroughly satisfied as to its value. I should insist on having it inspected by men of my own choice, who are experts. Their report I can rely on, and from that I would figure.”
“That would be business-like,” Merry nodded.
“And you would have no objections to that, of course?”
“Certainly not, sir. Still, you must not forget that I have a partner who might object. It will be necessary to consult him before anything of the sort is done.”
“All right, all right. Where is he?”
“He is at the mine.”
Kensington seemed somewhat disappointed.
“I was in hopes he might be in Prescott.”
“He is not.”
“Another point, Mr. Merriwell. Are you certain your title to this property is clear?”
“Absolutely certain, sir.”
“I am glad to hear that. Of course, I should look into that matter likewise. Unless the title was clear, I wouldn’t care to become involved.”
“In that case,” said a voice behind them, which caused them both to start slightly, “I advise you, Mr. Kensington, to let that property alone.”
Merriwell turned quickly and found himself face to face with Macklyn Morgan!
“Morgan!” exclaimed Frank.
To the ministerial face of the money king there came a smile of grim satisfaction, for he knew he had startled Frank.
“Yes, Mr. Kensington,” he said, “you had better be careful about this piece of business. There are some doubts as to the validity of this young man’s claim to that mine.”
Kensington did not seem pleased, and immediately he demanded:
“How do you happen to know so much about it, sir?”
“Because I am interested. My name is Macklyn Morgan. It is barely possible you have heard of me?”
“Macklyn Morgan!” exclaimed Thomas Kensington. “Why, not – why, not – ”
“Exactly,” nodded Morgan. “I belong to the Consolidated Mining Association of America. You may know something of that association; it’s quite probable that you do.”
“I should say so!” exclaimed Kensington, rather warmly. “I know that it’s a trust and that it has been gobbling up some of the best mines in the country.”
“Very well. You know, then, that the C. M. A. of A. makes few mistakes. As a member of that association I warn you now that you may involve yourself in difficulty if you negotiate with this young man for this mine which he claims.”
Frank rose to his feet, his eyes flashing with indignation.
“That will about do for you, Morgan!” he exclaimed. “I think I have stood about as much from you as I am in the mood to stand. Mr. Kensington, this man does belong to the Consolidated Mining Association. That association attempted to get possession of my Queen Mystery and San Pablo mines. I fought the whole bunch of them to a standstill and made them back water. They have given up the fight. But after they did so this Mr. Morgan, in conjunction with another one of the trust, did his level best to wring the Queen Mystery from me.
“The matter was finally settled right here in the courts. They were beaten. It was shown that their claims to my property were not worth a pinch of snuff. Since then Sukes, this man’s partner, met his just deserts, being shot by one of his tools, a half-crazed fellow whom he led into an infamous piece of business. This Morgan is persistent and vengeful. He has trumped up some silly charge against me and tried to frighten me into giving up to him my Queen Mystery or my new mine. It is a pure case of bluff on his part, and it has no further effect on me than to annoy me.”
Both Kensington and Morgan had listened while Frank was speaking, the latter with a hard smile on his face.
“You can judge, Mr. Kensington,” said Morgan, “whether a man of my reputation would be the sort to take part in anything of that kind. When it comes to bluff, this young fellow here is the limit. I tell you once more that you will make a serious mistake if you have any dealings with him. Any day he is likely to be arrested on the charge of murder, for there is evidence that he conspired in the assassination of my partner. It even seems possible that he fired the fatal shot. That’s the kind of a chap he is.”
“Mr. Kensington,” said Frank, with grim calmness, “this man, Morgan, has done his level best in trying to blackmail me out of one of my mines. This murder charge he talks about he has trumped up in hopes to frighten me; but I fancy he has found by this time that I am not so easily frightened. I can prove that he employed ruffians to jump my claim – to seize these new mines. We were forced to defend it with firearms. Morgan himself tried to have me treacherously shot, but he was not the kind of a man to deal with the ruffians he had employed, and he fell into a trap, from which he has now somehow escaped. He was captured and carried off by those same ruffians of his, whose object it was to hold him until he should pay a handsome sum for his liberty. Either he has managed to escape or he has paid the money demanded by those rascals.”
Morgan laughed.
“It is not possible, Mr. Kensington, that you will believe such a ridiculous story. I give you my word – the word of a gentleman and a man of business and honor – that the whole thing is a fabrication.”
“Morgan,” said Frank, “I propose to make this statement public just as you have heard it from my lips. If it is not true, you can have me arrested immediately for criminal libel. I dare you to have me arrested! If you do, I shall prove every word of what I have just said and show you up as the black-hearted rascal you really are. Instead of having me arrested, it is more than likely that you will employ some ruffian to shoot at my back. I’ll guarantee you will never try it yourself. If I were to step out here now and make a similar charge against Mr. Kensington, what would be the result?”
“By thunder!” burst from Kensington, “I’d shoot you on sight!”
“Exactly,” nodded Frank. “And so would Macklyn Morgan if the statement were false and if he dared.”
Morgan snapped his fingers.
“I consider you of too little consequence to resort to any such method. I am not a man who shoots; I’m a man who crushes. Frank Merriwell, you may fancy you have the best of me, but I tell you now that I will crush you like an eggshell.”
As he said this his usually mild and benevolent face was transformed until it took on a fierce and vengeful look, which fully betrayed his true character. Quickly lifting his hand, Merry pointed an accusing finger straight at Morgan’s face.
“Look at him, Mr. Kensington!” he directed. “Now you see him as he is beneath the surface. This is the real Macklyn Morgan. Ordinarily he is a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and it is only the clothing he reveals to those with whom he has dealings.”
Instantly the look vanished from Morgan’s face, and in its place there returned the mild, hypocritical smile he sometimes wore.
“I acknowledge that my indignation was aroused,” he said. “And I know it was foolish of me. I have said all I care to. I think Mr. Kensington will have a care about making any negotiations with you, Merriwell. Good day, Mr. Kensington.”
Bowing to Frank’s companion, Morgan coolly walked away and left the room.
